


I'm Not To Be Trusted

by Unwoundclock



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Also Sibling Bonding, Confused!Good!Dipper, Evil!Dipper, M/M, Slightly Aged-Up Chars(), Some Regretful Sadism, dark themes, demonic deals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-17 04:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3515528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unwoundclock/pseuds/Unwoundclock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <br/>
    <em>Dipper's always been afraid of being crazy.</em>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </p>
</div>Dipper can't remember anything from his summer four years ago. He finds out that he did some things that needed to be forgotten. Dark!Dipper AU
            </blockquote>





	1. Bloody Knuckles, Soft Palms

 

> _01010100 01010010 01010101 01010011 01010100 00100000 01001110 01001111 00100000 01001111 01001110 01000101 00100000_
> 
> _-The Author_

* * *

 

Dipper's always been afraid of being crazy.

He's always known that there was something a little off about the way he thought, about the way he acted. There was something dark and clumsy around the frayed edges of his mind that he'd promised himself never to indulge, never to let see the light of day (or in this case, grace his actions or face). At the age of six, he'd learned that normal children did, in fact, not kill their pet goldfishes for fun. He'd never cried flushing them down the toilet drain. His sister cried after he told her a lie about how their pet had died, despite it being difficult because there was an obvious pencil impaled in its side. _I accidentally dropped the pencil in the tank_ , _sorry sis._

Now though, after years of reflecting upon his actions and sizing them up to what other people—normal people—did, Dipper realized that there was actually something very wrong. He just wasn't sure what, and really he had no interest in finding out. Thing was, Dipper wanted so badly to fit in, he really did, that he didn't care about just pretending to be normal. He was 16-years-old and had never been on a date, never really even had a friend other than his sister, Mabel. She did have friends though—stupid, why did she need anyone else? He was better than her friends. They were twins for crying out loud—while Dipper was always, and probably always would be, irreversibly alone.

It's not like Dipper didn't try to make friends. He did! Other kids just didn't like him, they called him a "freak" or "loser." Bullies liked to pick on him especially and Dipper wondered how they'd decided on that. Maybe he was just short? Dipper wasn't going to look too hard for a reason when there probably wasn't one. Some of the kids thought he was stuck-up because he was a teacher's pet and knew all the answers to homework assignments and talked to the teachers after class for fun. The teachers were the only people who listened to him though! By the time summer break rolled around, Dipper wanted nothing more than to get away from the school and the stupid jerks that went there. It was pure luck when his parents decided to send Mabel and him back to Gravity Falls to stay with their uncle. How they'd finally agreed to that was beyond Dipper. It was pretty hard to look past their uncle's shady, newly-exposed past and jail record.

Regardless of how it came to be, Dipper and Mabel found themselves on the front steps of uncle Stan's Mystery Shack. The woods didn't look as scary as they had a few years ago, and the shack looked more run-down than ever but still held onto its rustic (very rustic) charm. He'd forgotten how much he'd loved these woods. The trees were vast and dense and no one—ever—went out into the woods except for him and Mabel, yet Dipper never felt alone. The trees were mostly pine trees and for some reason that made it feel like this forest was _his_. Dipper Pines. For once he fit in. He smiled.

Dipper unpacked his clothes and books and notepads and pens and started to make himself at home. He opened the dusty closet and started to hang his shirts—"uhg, I don't want to hang my shirts" Mabel complained from where she was laying on her bed—on half-broken hangers. He sneezed because he was allergic to something, and when he opened his eyes again he saw a journal at the bottom of the closet. He frowned and picked it up, the velvet-red cover covered in a thin casing of dust. On the front of the book was a golden hand with six fingers, glinting dully when he moved the book up and down in the light. He remembered this book faintly, it felt like something important. He just couldn't remember what it was.

Mabel got off her bed and looked over his shoulder, bypassing all normal personal space laws. "What's that, brobro? Open it. Open it." She chanted as he rolled his eyes and indulged her, turning over the cover to the first page.

"Does this...does this journal feel familiar to you?" Dipper asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to remember where he'd seen it before. Mabel laughed and playfully slapped his arm, "no! Dipper, are you going crazy?" Dipper laughed a little too hard at that because the only thing he thought was: what if I am?

He looked back down at the page he'd flipped to, which contained hand-drawn pictures of what looked to be...gnomes? He abruptly changed pages because for some reason those drawings of ruddy-cheeked small folk were threatening to give him a headache. Those happened quite a lot, now that he thought about it. He wondered if he packed any aspirin. Mabel's nose pressed against his shoulder as she reached over him and turned the page to a drawing of The Living Dead. "Original," Dipper laughed sarcastically and Mabel made her characteristic "hah!" laugh. The book was obviously just a collection of fictional monsters, probably something parents used to scare their children with. Still, it was good material, and there were some blank pages in the back. He could probably rip out the ones with drawings and make a pretty nifty personal journal.

Dipper put the book in his backpack. Mabel was unpacking her clothes now, haphazardly throwing a colorful variety of sweaters and pants onto her bed and the floor. A hippie-rainbow bandana sailed across the room and landed on Dipper's bed. He sighed and decided to leave now before his sister convinced him into helping her put everything away. She had to learn how to finally clean up after herself. He grabbed his hat, backpack, and camera then left. The door to the shack was a creaky, rickety old thing with a broken fly net. It would be absolutely useless against serial killers or robbers. Dipper had to pause for a second and wonder why his thoughts automatically seemed to jump to the worst-case scenarios of everything. He frowned but shrugged it off and looked at the forest, trying to analyze which way he should enter because there didn't seem to be any paths.

He made his way to the edge of some trees and prayed that he'd be able to remember the way back. His camera hung heavy and when he walked it thumped uncomfortably against his chest. The woods were light only because of the filtered sunlight through the leaves and every step he took seemed to pull Dipper further and further into darkness. He kind of wished that he'd brought Mabel with him, just for her up-beat, filler chatter. He could really use a mental image of unicorns and rainbows right now as he stared into the increasingly confusing twist and turns of branches and bushes. He swallowed nervously and turned around, realizing that his fears had come to fruition. Of course they would, that was just his luck, wasn't it. The woods behind him looked unrecognizable, as though they'd been exchanged for a totally different set of trees.

Dipper promptly got sick and threw up in some bushes. He really had to get a hold on his anxiety, but it seemed justified right about then. _Calm down, calm down_ , he whispered frantically, his eyes watering despite himself. He just had to call someone or something...only he faintly remembered his uncle telling his mother that they didn't have cell phone reception in Gravity Falls. Cross that out...okay, what else could he do? If he continued to walk he'd just wander further into hopeless territory, then again, if he stayed put he was putting himself in a vulnerable predicament.

Being athletic had never been something that Dipper prided himself in, he was by all standards weak-boned and thin-limbed. He'd always been awful at running and the semester he had to do weight lifting in gym had been his lowest grade yet (a B+, but only because he cried and the gym teacher took pity on him). He'd never been a boy scout, or really been outside for any extended period of time. Plainly put, he was screwed. None of his traits helped him out in this situation, his wits and knowledge of math and physics and conspiracy theories and fun facts about Edgar Allen Poe couldn't help him out of this. Usually, Dipper wasn't a quitter. Now though, he didn't really see what else he could do but sit down and await his fate. Sure, it hadn't really been how he'd planned on going, but it was better than some of the other doomsday scenarios he'd dreamed up.

He sighed and sat down at the base of a large pine tree, resting his back against the rough bark. It wasn't so bad. He had soft moss underneath his fingers, and even though the sun was setting, the creepy-ness levels of the forest were still fairly standard. Not a bad way to die, he rated it a 6/10. He was too riled up to even think about going to sleep, but he didn't really have much else to do. He looked at his backpack and then dragged it onto his lap, unzipping it and looking for something interesting to entertain himself with while he awaited dehydration and starvation, then subsequent death. Maybe some beast would wander along and just eat him, that would save some time. He sighed and looked at the contents of the backpack. Inside was: A notepad, a few pens without their caps, gummy bears (Via Mabel), a broken calculator, his Nodika phone, and the mysterious red journal.

The most interesting thing at the moment was his phone but hell if he was going to play Candy Crusher during his last hours alive so he was going to go with the mysterious journal. He wasn't really sure what he expected to gleam from this book but he was going to find something...unless he died first. Dipper determinedly opened the book up again and began reading the first page.

 

_June 18,_  
_It's hard to believe it's been six years since I began researching the strange and wondrous secrets of Gravity Falls, Oregon._  
_In all my travels, never have I observed so many curious things! Gravity Falls is indeed a geographical oddity._

 

That seemed normal enough, but then Dipper looked at the page next to it.

 

  
_35 3 30_  
_First page is a farce. Uhhh, to the untrained beginner's eye it may seem to contain relevant information. I can assure you it's not the case. For you see, this is all gibberish. Pure nonsense, if you wish. In fact, none of my sample writing is of any significance. I rarely dot my I's and T's, punctuation has alone taken a bind next to pure theatre. It is indeed a long lost stunt. Please enjoy. Please enjoy the irrelevant and incomprehensible rambling seen. 13_

 

_1 345 6 12 89 10 11_

Dipper made a face, struck by how obviously insane the author of this book was. This wasn't a book designed for children, no, this was the book of a madman. The author sounded like he truly believed what he was writing, that the creatures were real and that he was a hero trying to unearth all of the secrets Gravity Falls supposedly withheld. If Dipper wasn't about to die, he'd probably disregard the book completely, but circumstances being what they were, he was content with filling his mind with this lunatic's fever dreams. Maybe the author had been a schizophrenic or something, and had documented all of his visions in this journal. That made it a little more interesting. Around half-way through the journal, the hand writing changed for some reason. It went from a scrawl to a different kind of scrawl. It looked like a child's handwriting, a little too big and clunky, but like it was trying to imitate the naturally disastrous style of the previous handwriting style. The information seemed about the same: "Do NOT eat, I repeat, do NOT eat!" and "...Very dangerous, I can't speak now, I'm being watched. They're everywhere KIRYHTN GHFYRED DHED UIY" and "That demon keeps following me, I don't feel safe anywhere...he's always watching. Watching. Don't trust the demon. Don't trust the demon...he, he messes with people's heads" and "Forget what I said before, he might be okay, I don't know...I don't know how to feel about a lot of things anymore" and then finally a frantically written "Nothing makes sense. I don't know anymore! I don't know! What is happening to me? I don't understand!"

That final line was an understatement, obviously. Dipper stared at the last page for a second, as if looking at it long enough would somehow make the jumble of...something into sentences that were a little more coherent. No such luck. He blinked again and then turned the last page, not sure what he was expecting. Maybe for one of the mythical fairies that the book so vividly described or just a blank back page. He wasn't expecting to see:

_Dipper Pines, 12-years-old (Summer 2012)_  
_Bearer of the 3rd journal_

That was weird. Oddly unsettling too, like he wanted to throw up again but he knew that he didn't have enough in his stomach to do so. He looked back at the journal and tried to remember writing it, tried really hard to think back to 4 years ago. Nothing. Dipper had to hold back the headache that was threatening to split his forehead in two and concentrate on why exactly 12-year-old him had believed in all this fantasy junk and why he couldn't remember any of it. It was pretty beyond him how anyone could forget what past Dipper had supposedly seen, plus, he'd written like a freaking book (or at least half of it). No, that was too...impossible. Maybe there was another kid named Dipper who'd been 12 exactly 4 years ago and lived in the Mystery Shack.

That was almost more implausible.

"What the hell," Dipper muttered and placed his head on his knees, rocking himself gently back and forth. He did this until the heels of his feet hurt and then he just sat there before he'd collected himself enough. He rubbed a hand down his face and then looked down, realizing that the journal had fallen open to a page with an ominous-looking triangle on it. At least, the drawing kind of looked like a triangle. It was oddly un-detailed, unlike the rest of the extravagantly drawn pictures, and was quite simply a black triangle with an eye in the middle of it. Dipper squinted at the words beneath the the drawing.

  
_Fidentus omnium. Magister mentium. Magnesium ad hominem. Magnum opus. Habeas corpus. Inceptus Nolanus overratus. Magister mentium. Magister mentium. Magister mentium._

Now, on the page adjacent to the spell (or whatever it was) was "DO NOT SUMMON AT ALL COSTS!" in thick black marker but really, Dipper had enough of this creepy journal and its weirdness and just wanted to prove to himself that it was fake once and for all. So he said the weird non-English words quietly, just under his breath. They didn't feel magic in his mouth, didn't sound different when he said them. There, see? It was normal, not magic. He finished reading, his voice trailing off softly and leaving him in silence again.

Dipper waited a few seconds, holding his breath. Then, he realized how stupid he was being when nothing showed up. Did he want the journal to be real, the content to be true? No, that'd be stupid. He was a rational person. He liked numbers and data and scientific studies. He didn't believe in gnomes and fairies. He put the journal down in the grass next to him, opting to forget about the whole thing and just die in peace. Really, considering his luck, it was no surprise when things didn't go as planned.

A quiet, wind-like voice from the shadows nearly frightened Dipper out of his skin. "You summoned me. I thought you said you'd never summon me again."

Dipper sprung up, his back against the tree as he looked for the bearer of the voice. He only saw the gloomy shadows the trees casted on the ground and the white moon above the tree-line. He squinted—he really had to get glasses, except that didn't really matter anymore—as he stared around the clearing. He snapped off a thin branch from the tree and held it up defensively, despite how pathetic it must have looked. "Who's there, who are you?" Dipper said, his puberty-affected voice scaling two octaves higher than normal.

A shadow slipped from the darkness and Dipper gasped at the shape the— _what was it?_ —made on the ground.

 

It was a black triangle. 

 


	2. You Make Me Sick (I Make Me Sick)

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* * *

 

_It was a black triangle_. 

"Oh right, the whole you can't remember anything thing. I always thought that was a stupid thing for you to do, but whatever." The shadow drifted closer, into the pale moonlight. Dipper felt like screaming, felt like curling up in a ball and melting into hysteria. There was a levitating triangle with an eyeball and top hat and a black little bow looking at him. Dipper's mouth went dry as he tried to find the logic behind this...this _thing_. There didn't seem to be any. Had science really failed him? He had to assume that everything in the book had been true, and that this triangle being was just one of the many odd creatures that lurked in Gravity Falls.

Dipper knew that he should be freaking out, yet he also knew that past him had already known all of this information. Why he'd chosen to forget it was another mystery Dipper had to solve. Preferably quickly, lest he be caught unprepared like this again. "I asked you a question. Who are you?" Dipper said as sternly as he could, glaring at the triangle. The creature stared at him curiously, a cane appearing from the air.

"You picked up a little more bite while you were gone, didn't you?" The demon snickered and then held out a long, oddly boneless arm and hand, "I'm Bill, Bill Cipher. Residential demon of Gravity Falls. Pleased to make your acquaintance, despite it feeling rather deja vu." Dipper eyed the hand suspiciously and refrained from taking it. Something about this Bill Cipher guy struck him as dangerous and...weird, well, weirder than the other things in the book. It felt like there was a tangible air of danger around the triangle, something that screamed WARNING DO NOT TOUCH!

"Not going to shake my hand? Should've known that you wouldn't. Masters don't usually shake their demon's hands."

Dipper realed back in confusion, his back thumping against the tree again. "Master?" He echoed distantly, frowning intently. He wasn't even sure what one would have to do in order to become the master of a demon. Had he sold his soul or something? Oh god, Dipper didn't even believe in souls but he was quickly re-thinking everything that he stood for so maybe souls were real. He shot the demon a panicked look and Bill rolled his eye in a mocking manner, "no, kid, you didn't sell your soul. Don't worry your little head about it." The demon leaned in close, his arm resting across Dipper's shoulder, "you gave me something better than a soul."

Dipper's mind promptly spun off into another worst-case scenario. He'd fucked Bill Cipher. He'd exchanged sex in order to get power...or something. Oh god, a prostitute at the age of 12, no wonder he'd erased all of his memories. What was he going to tell his parents? God, what was he going to tell Mabel? Was he even going to tell her?  _Hey sis, apparently I fucked a triangle—_

"Gee kid, you sure have a weird way of jumping to conclusions, don't you. Master." Bill tacked on the 'Master' like it was an afterthought. Something inside of Dipper didn't like that. _He shouldn't just flippantly use my title like that. He should be on his knees, begging for the right to call me anything, much less speak to me._  Dipper blinked the thought back in surprise, bringing his hand up to his head.

He gritted his teeth and bore through the pain, "what exactly do you mean by 'Master' and what power do I hold over you? I demand that you tell me everything. I assume that I was smart enough to make sure that you have to follow all of my commands." Bill's eye seemed to slit a little, like he was angry. The cane vanished in a sudden blast of blue flames and Bill distanced himself again, his glowing body night-light-like in the darkness. The demon muttered some runes and a document appeared in his hands. He sent the parchment over to Dipper and the boy couldn't help but smirk a little because it seemed like the demon did have to do everything he asked. He silently thanked past Dipper.

"You sure don't mess around, do ya, kid." Bill said rather grumpily and Dipper ignored him as he looked at the sheet of paper. The document read:

>   
>  _TERMS OF SERVICE_  
>  _This document states the premises of the agreement between Bill Cipher and [TOP SECRET] Pines. All terms in this document must be met and are held up via the International Society of Demonhood. If one or more of the members in the party fails to uphold their end of the deal, their soul(s) are naturally sucked into the endless pits of Hell. This agreement is valid for: FOREVER. Bill Cipher's end of the deal is:_
> 
> _1\. Demon Bill Cipher is under Human [TOP SECRET] Pine's command and is thereby forced to do whatever the human asks._
> 
>   * _All commands must be done promptly and without argument_
>   * _All questions must be answered honestly_
>   * _The master, [TOP SECRET] Pines, must be protected at all costs by Bill Cipher_
>   * _Demons in servitude may not hurt their masters_
> 


Et cetera, et cetera. Dipper looked at the text, mildly impressed and completely lost all at the same time. Apparently the International Society of Demonhood had their deals sorted out. He wasn't exactly sure what he should think of the whole "sucked into the endless pits of hell" part but he was still on Earth so he had to assume that he hadn't messed up yet.

"Why does it say 'Top Secret' instead of my name?" Dipper asked, wondering if maybe there was a twist and it was actually his sister that had made the deal or something. He wouldn't put it past the demon to try to pull a quick one on him like that. Bill seemed to not want to say anything but he ended up talking anyway because that was—luckily, thank God—part of the deal. "As long as I don't know your name, you have complete power over me. That's why your first name isn't on the Terms of Service. All I know you as is Dipper Pines. I'm also not allowed to look for your name. You have to be the one to tell me."

Dipper laughed dryly, "why would I tell you my name if it nulled my end of the deal?" Bill shrugged and Dipper had to assume that he really didn't know. Bill was an odd creature, that was for sure. He was a golden color and glowed a shining yellow color. Sometimes he'd randomly erupt in blue flames and he wore a comical top hat, bow, and sometimes swung around a cane. Really, all the demon needed was a mustache and monocle and he'd be a proper English douche. Bill Cipher was also extremely powerful and extremely dangerous if his instincts and the journal were anything to go by. _I have complete control over a powerful demon_ , Dipper realized in a _Holy Shit_ moment.

He felt his knees go weak against the tree. He felt bile rising up his throat. Why the hell did he have to be so weak? Dipper muttered, "get me out of here."

Bill leaned in closer, "sorry, what was that?"

"I said, get me the fuck out of here," Dipper yelled, an uncharacteristic edge to his voice. It sounded scary and controlling and Dipper swore that he'd never used that kind of tone before...but somehow he knew that wasn't true. The demon didn't seem too startled either, he just kind of nodded and snapped his fingers. There was a blinding flash of, well, everything (snippets of sand dunes and mountains and a large Amazonian rainforest) before suddenly they landed and Dipper's knees gave as he fell to the ground. Now his head was just about killing him, murdering itself in his head like it just wanted to die rather than take the pain he was currently going through.

"What was that?" Dipper seethed quietly as he cradled his head. The demon sounded entirely too smug when he answered, "I got you out of the forest. You never said where you wanted to go. Consider yourself lucky that I decided to be nice and land you near the Mystery Shack." That wasn't going to fly. Didn't the demon know who he was? He was his master. Dipper's jaw tightened as he stood up and glared at the demon, "let's get one thing straight. I control you, you can't do anything about that. Whatever deal we made, you subjected yourself to this and I honestly don't care what the Hell I did but you're under _my_ rule. I could literally ask you to torture yourself, gauge out your eyes, rip yourself apart block by block, and you'd have to do as I said. So don't you dare _ever_ pull something like that again. Also, if you adress me, call me Master, not Kid or whatever other crap you have in that stupid vocabulary of yours."

Bill's _eye_  seemed to smile as he stared at Dipper owlishly. "It's nice to have you back, Master Pines."

A grim smile made its way across Dipper's lips before he knew what his mouth was doing, almost by itself. "Rest assured, it's good to be back." The words sounded thick, like tar and felt dirty on his tongue. Shock sparked through him as Dipper wondered exactly who past Dipper had been...and why all this seemed so uncomfortably grim. Dipper forced the skewed grin from his face and turned away from the demon, looking with relief at the Mystery Shack just behind some trees. God, he'd never been happier to see a falling apart cabin. He could only hope that this was all just a really weird dream. He had those sometimes.

Dipper turned around and looked at Bill, torn between two very distinct emotions. One was akin to confusion (who exactly was this demon and how had they gotten into this position. What had he given up?) and the second was something a little weirder, a little twisted (hurt him, you can hurt him. You've never been able to hurt something—some _one_ —like this. You can command him to hurt himself. Do it, he has to listen to you, he has to do it. You _own_  him. Hurt him like you used to, do it. You did it before.) Frankly, Dipper had no idea what to do with the second emotion. He wasn't even sure that it was his. All he knew was that 12-year-old Dipper had probably been a pretty messed up kid. What else was new.

"Not going to kiss me goodnight?" Bill asked, idly leaning on an invisible armrest in the air. Dipper made a face and laughed tiredly, "You don't even have a mouth." A thin line opened up like a zipper in the middle of Bill's body, revealing a very real, very terrifying mouth filled with gleaming, sharp teeth. "I could have a mouth if you wanted me to." Dipper swallowed dryly and subconsciously backed away, finally just coming to terms with his fears. That had been too much for him to handle in one night. That had been the last straw of his sanity and relative calmness. Dipper spun around on the heels of his sneakers and ran as fast as he could to the Mystery Shack, flinging the door open and slamming it shut behind him so fast he was sure he'd get his fingers stuck. A thin, half-broken door wasn't going to keep a demon out but for some reason it made him feel safer. _He's not allowed to hurt me, he's not allowed to hurt me_ , Dipper told himself repeatedly as he realized that he'd broken out in cold sweat.

Nobody else in the shack seemed to be awake so Dipper quietly walked up the stairs. The lights in Uncle Stan's room were off but there was a faint glow coming from his and Mabel's room. He pushed down the door handle slowly, so that it wouldn't make much noise, and walked into the room. There was a tent-like blanket fort on Mabel's bed and she was obviously beneath it, holding a nightlight. The blanket fort was something his twin did when she was worried. She always had since she was little. It was an interesting physical manifestation of her fear, which she felt she had to keep out with a barrier of sorts. Dipper walked closer, taking off his sneakers and dropping them on the floor.

"...Dipper?" Mabel whispered from beneath the covers, it was obvious that she had been crying. The pillows shifted a little as Dipper pushed them aside and climbed under the covers, meeting his twin's tear-stained face in the flash light glow. "Miss me?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood. It only sounded tired. Mabel sobbed and threw her arms around him, definitely getting snot and tears on his shirt. She punched his arm and pulled back, glaring at him.

"Where the hell were you? You were gone for so long...I thought, I thought you'd gotten lost or something. I felt really sick, oh God, Dipper. Don't do that again." She wiped at her tears uselessly and Dipper felt extremely guilty. He knew that if Mabel had gone missing he'd have been in hysterics. Mabel went on, "and I tried to call the police but no one answered—none of the phones here work—and I couldn't find Uncle Stan. He wasn't in his room. Then I looked out into the forest and there was this feeling...I don't know Dipper, I thought that something bad had happened to you." More tears slipped down her red cheeks and Dipper wiped them away with the soft blankets.

"I'm sorry, Mabel, I'm sorry. I promise. I promise I won't do it again. I'm sorry." They clung onto each other for a few more minutes, sharing one of those moments that only twins really seemed to have. They'd always gotten teased for being so close but they just were close. They were best friends, best siblings. They knew each other better than anyone else, and sometimes it almost felt like they could even sense what the other was feeling. She'd probably been scared out of her wits. Dipper soothed her hair down as they started falling asleep, both exhausted from the hysteria of that afternoon. The blanket fort collapsed around them as they drifted off, each too scared to be alone.

"What happened?" Mabel asked, already half-asleep. Dipper's hat fell onto the floor and he pulled a soft pillow under his head. "Nothing, just a bad dream." He half-lied. It had definitely been nightmare material, he just wasn't sure if it'd been a dream.

"You're a liar" Mabel whispered. "You're such a bad liar."

Dipper felt faintly sick again and he wondered if the feeling would ever go away again. He didn't know how to answer that question because he felt like he didn't know himself anymore. Mabel tucked her arm around his shoulder and hugged him closer. "Don't worry, I'm one too."

Dipper didn't ask which one she meant.


	3. The Lies Caught In My Teeth

> _MXNGVEECW MW SLAWW. SUL FPZSK MW SOJMRX._

* * *

 

Dipper woke up the next morning with his knees shoved against Mabel's stomach and his arms were numb from sleeping on them. He cautiously disengaged himself from the mess of blankets and pillows and slipped out of bed. "Mrrrm?" Mabel grumbled incoherently on her side of the bed as she curled into a ball of sheets. Dipper laughed and threw a floor-stranded stuffed animal (it was a unicorn/dragon mix of some sort) at her. It bounced off her head and and she groaned again as she lifted herself up into a sitting position. It looked a little like she was being raised from the dead.

"Dipper! What have I told you about waking me up? Now I'll fall asleep early tonight!" She threw up her arms in exasperation, "I was going to stay up late talking to Grenda. Now I might drop off to snoozeville while we're talking."

Dipper hummed as he looked for his journal, really not caring what she and Grenda would be up to later. He'd never liked Grenda. She was too loud and a little too slow for his tastes. He really didn't like that she took his sister away from him so often, over stupid matters like clothes picking and boy trouble. That was just possessive behavior though and he wouldn't let it get the best of him. Speaking of possessions, he really had to get cracking on reading that journal. He picked it up and sat down in the cove near the window of their room, enjoying the sunlight against his face.

Yesterday just being a dream was becoming more and more likely. That was comforting. He'd always had an avid imagination. Dreaming up demons wasn't the weirdest thing he'd thought of. In fact, it was nowhere near the weirdest thing he'd thought of. Dipper shuddered at a very disturbing memory and then got to work. _Bill Cipher...Bill Cipher..._  He flipped though pages as he squinted his eyes for the familiar black triangle.

  
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There it was. Dipper read over the contents and wow, Past Him apparently hadn't been sure about how to think about the demon. There were comments written all around the page, now that Dipper actually looked at it. Things that varied along the lines of "What does he want from me?" and "I'm afraid that he's watching, how do I get rid of him?" and "DO NOT TRUST" that had been crossed out and replaced with "OK TO TRUST, MAYBE" and then a troubling scribble of "MINE MINE MINE MINE" at the bottom of the page. There were more thrown throughout the page but those were the big ones. Dipper blinked and tried to make sense of everything. Sometime during that summer four years ago, he'd become a possessive weirdo. Really, what was new? It wasn't even surprising. He just wanted to know _why_. What had happened?

He'd have to talk to the demon again, preferably soon. He glanced up from his journal when he suddenly had the thought: _where's Mabel?_

[Mabel's Pov]

Mabel was a happy person, normally. Today wasn't a normal day though, no, today was a day that she wouldn't fondly scrapbook and look back upon with a smile. Today was the kind of day that she wanted to take the memory of and crumple it up and throw it in a metaphoric mind trashcan. It had to be done though, and she was the only one who could do it. She took a big breath and walked into the forest clearing, hands fisted nervously in her large sweater.

She looked around, the light filtering softly through the trees. Yesterday her brother had definitely seen the demon. She'd felt it her bones, that cold feeling that Bill Cipher brought with him; a sick, gross feeling. That meant that this whole mess would be uncovered sooner or later and she couldn't allow that. She couldn't let her twin suffer again. He'd been doing so well and she didn't need the demon to mess that up again. The past had to be kept a secret between her and the demon, just their screwed up, sick secret. "Gotta be pretty stupid to make a deal with a demon," Mabel muttered to herself with a shaky smile. Her braces chaffed her lip as she bit it in nervous habit.

"Bill," she said, "I order you to come to me."

Instantly, there was a flash of gold and then the demon appeared in front of her, his top hat and bow materializing before the his body did. Mabel stared at him, dread sinking in now that she actually saw Bill Cipher again. God, just seeing his face made her want to throw up. His wide, unblinking eye stared at her as he began to speak, "Master Mabel! I had a feeling that you'd show up. You know, the funniest thing happened yesterday—"

"Shut up." Mabel almost yelled, trying to kept her composure as she glared up at the demon. "Listen to me, mister. You're not going anywhere near my brother again, you hear me?"

Bill shrugged and spun his cane, "Gee, I'd love to obey you _Master_  but I have to listen to my other Master as well. There's only so much a little demon like me can do ya know."

"You jerk," Mabel seethed, "you set him up to find the book again. Probably made it so that he couldn't do anything but summon you again. That's breaking the deal we had!"

"No, it doesn't. Dipper found the book all on his own and read the summoning spell himself. Sorry, but that doesn't break the rules, toots. Now I'm back in the game and huh, it looks like he is too."

Mabel's fists clenched again at her sides, her bangs falling into her face as a old rage came back to her. "I'll make you regret this. Don't you remember what happened last time this happened? If you so much as lay one finger on my brother, this time I swear I'll kill you. You hear me? I'll kill you!" Her face felt hot and red and her lungs burned in her chest.

Bill acted shocked, "Hurt him? Oh no, I'm just a servant. Servants aren't allowed to hurt their Masters." Bill circled around so that he was facing her, a thin arm sliding around her tense shoulders conversationally, "you know the demon rules."

Mabel gritted her teeth and roughly shrugged off his arm, "you know what I mean. I also know that you break the rules. Don't..." she paused for a second, "give him ideas."

The demon chuckled darkly, "still in denial, aren't you? You don't think that your twin doesn't still have _those thoughts_? You think that he's just normal now? I didn't give him those ideas, they were his. I just gave him a little push." The demon drifted a little further away, giving her some space. "He's still messed up, he just doesn't know how to deal with those feelings. He just doesn't trust you enough to tell you."

"That's a lie! My brother would never..." Mabel trailed off, memories from four years ago coming back to her.

_She crept into the cellar. All the lights were off except for a lantern standing in the corner of the room. "Dipper?" She whispered, scared. Her hands felt cold, she felt numb. In the corner was the shadow of her twin. He turned around and she gasped, because she couldn't find her voice to yell. So much blood. So much blood. There was a patch of red on his shirt, on his face, and all around him on the floor. She wanted to cry but all she felt was a sick kind of relief and a sad dread. It wasn't his blood. It wasn't his.._.

Bill was snapping his fingers in front of her, "remembering something, Shooting Star? I know, I was shocked back then too! Who knew that Lil'Dipper was such a sociopath? I sure didn't. Good times, good times." Mabel scowled and turned away to hide her shaking hands, "you don't know anything. That wasn't him."

"Maybe you're the one who doesn't know," Bill said. "You just don't want to accept that your brother is a cold blooded killer. You're always going on about how you'll love him no matter what but that's where your support ends, doesn't it. You can't accept him for what he really is. Does it hurt, Shooting Star?" Mabel hugged her arms and frowned stubbornly as she felt tears start to pool in her eyes, "leave me alone."

"You thought that you could just erase his memories from four years ago and everything would be back to normal. News flash, memories always come back. He's still the same as he was all those years ago."

"I order you to leave me alone!" Mabel yelled as she spun around but the demon was already gone. She blinked and wiped her hands over her eyes. Bill was wrong, her brother wasn't like...that. He was kind of awkward, a little bit of a loner, but he wasn't a murderer. The demon had probably just exploited his insecurities and...

Mabel shook her head. She didn't need to think about this because her twin was innocent. he told her everything, she knew everything about him. They didn't have secrets from each other, ever. Well, they hadn't until Bill Cipher had waltzed along. She sighed and started to walk back to the Mystery Shack. _Get yourself together,_  Mabel told herself sternly as she opened the door. She walked up the stairway and into their room, taking a big breath before she walked in. As expected, her brother was reading by the window. She smiled a little because he just looked...so in place. His hair was a little messy and he was muttering words under his breath. He'd always talked to himself quietly like that. This was normal Dipper. This was how Mabel always remembered him.

He looked up and waved at her, "oh, hey Mabel." She smiled and gave him a little wave, "hey bro bro." He raised an eyebrow and lowered his book slightly. "Everything okay?" he asked and Mabel wanted to smack herself for thinking that Dipper wouldn't realize that she was upset. Of course he would, they knew each other too well to not. She smiled, her confidence restored. Bill was wrong, he didn't know her brother like she knew him.

"No...I—" she stopped. She floundered for words. She wanted to tell Dipper about what had happened so badly. Over the last years she'd been on the verge of telling him almost constantly. It felt wrong to keep something from him. They didn't keep secrets from each other! Yet, Mabel knew that this particular secret was too much for her twin to take. It was almost too much for her to take. _Your twin's a murderer._  But it wasn't his fault! He'd been tricked. Demons tricked people all the time.

It wasn't his fault.

"Mabel?" Dipper asked, putting the journal down next to him as he turned to her. Concern was written across his face and Mabel couldn't see any similarities between this face and the one that killed a man on whim when they were twelve. She exhaled and shook her head, "it's nothing Dip."

It was nothing.

It wasn't his fault.

She walked into the room and sat down next to her brother, "about yesterday." His eyes widened slightly and he unconsciously pushed the journal further away from her. The slightly worried look on his face—like he was afraid of being caught—made Mabel nervous. "That was just a bad dream, Mabel." He said quickly. Mabel tried not to let the lie hurt.

It did.

God, it really did. She smiled thinly, just for show. It was flimsy, it was oh so fake. But right now that's what both of them were being. She couldn't say that she knew he was lying either so she just sat there, on the verge of asking "are you sure?" and shouting "you liar." Instead, she said nothing and slid off of the seat.

"Okay." She said, and she heard Dipper get up behind her. "Mabel—"

"No. Fine, just don't tell me, jerk!" She yelled and ran from the room, slamming the door behind her. The tears blurred her vision again as she ran into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. Her heart hurt. They never lied to each other.

Dipper knocked on the door a few times but she didn't answer.

It wasn't his fault. It wasn't his fault.

What if it was his fault?

 


	4. I Didn't Tell You Because I Loved You (This can be taken in 2 different ways)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [AN: Hey, sorry about the small break from this. I have the rest written out already though so I'll just post them soon.]

* * *

 

 

>  
> 
>  
> 
> _Death is a Dialogue between The Spirit and The Dust._
> 
> -Emily Dickinson, "Death is a Dialogue"
> 
>  

He lied.

 

 

"That was just a bad dream, Mabel." He said, the words falling off his tongue easily, like it'd been made for them. They didn't stick behind his teeth like the words did when he usually lied, and they didn't put up a fight going down either. _I can't tell her about the demon_ , he thought, trying to justify his actions. He and Mabel never lied to each other. That was one of their Twin Rules. Number 45? He couldn't remember. There were more pressing issues on hand though: his sister's physic abilities, for one.

He didn't know how she knew but apparently she did, and that was why she was camping out in the bathroom. He'd been knocking on the door for a good five minutes now and she'd still steadfastly refused to open the door. "Mabel, come on already. You can't stay in there forever." No answer. He sighed and leaned against the wall. He had to figure out what she knew ( _what's she hiding?_  a paranoid part of him questioned) and tell her about his encounter last night. "Mabel..." he started, waiting for the shuffling inside the bathroom to stop. "I met someone—something—last night."

The shuffling went silent. Then there was an uncharacteristically small, "yeah?"

"Yeah," Dipper said, a little more firmly, "and I think you've been hiding something from me." There was a spark-hot wave of betrayal running through his blood, setting his teeth on edge. Mabel knew about the demon and hadn't told him. She knew that he hated it when people kept secrets from him. What was happening? He and Mabel never got into fights like this. He felt like some part of his world had just been mirrored and flipped upside down.

A fuzzy memory came suddenly came back to him, flooding his vision:

_"She's the only thing holding you back, Pine tree." A hazy yellow shape came in and out of focus. "She can't accept you, she wants to change you, make you normal. You're anything but normal and you know it." He looked down and saw a puddle of something red underneath his feet. "You're anything but normal, kid. Hey, here's an idea—" There was a flash of something blue._

_"Let's make a deal."_

It faded in the blink of an eye, the world only going washy before his eyes for a second. Dipper swallowed and held his head in his head again, covering up a pained noise. He realized that Mabel was saying something and tried to direct his focus again, everything feeling too stimulating. "I did it for you," Mabel said and Dipper had to double-check the words with his mind. He had no idea what she was talking about. He said as much, his fingernails digging into his temples, "you're not making any sense. I don't even know what you're talking about." The doorknob turned and then opened, slamming against the wall.

"I'm talking about Bill, Dipper."

"Oh, so you _do_  know about him. Wow, it turns out that my own twin has been hiding things from me. Great! Maybe 12-year-old me was right about not trusting anyone. I can't even trust you!" Dipper's fingers left his forehead to fall into fists at his sides. He couldn't believe that Mabel was accusing him of lying when she was obviously the one with more secrets. He felt confused tears prick at the edges of his eyes, too wet and dry at the same time, stinging. "What do you know? What have you been keeping from me?" he asked, bitterness lining his voice.

Mabel looked uncertain, torn. She wavered on her feet, teeth biting into the side of her lip (braces scrapping at the skin enough to cause it to bleed). "You have to trust me Dipper...I'm doing this for you. I can't tell you, it'll just make everything bad again."

"Again." Dipper echoed, small pieces of a large puzzle sliding into place. "You remember what happened when we were 12. You know." He was seething at this point, almost shaking. He hated not knowing. He hated that Mabel didn't think he could handle the truth when she could. He didn't like that everyone was treating him like he was something unstable, childish. "I'm going to find out, whether you help me or not. Bill, I order you to appear."

"Dipper—" Mabel yelled but there was already a flash of light and a strange fog filling the room. Next came the ominous laughter (a little dramatic, Dipper thought) and a burst of blue flames. Bill appeared in all of his golden glory and leered down at the twins. He waved his arm and his cane appeared, swinging idly in the air. The flames cleared away, and the demon drifted closer to them, hovering just a little above their heads. "Well, look at this! Isn't this just a nice little reunion. Both my masters, both looking like their about to scream their tiny meat-bag vocal chords out, ahh, this brings back good times. You remember these, don't you Mabel?"

Dipper blanched. "Mabel's your master too? I thought you said—"

Bill waved his hand, "it's all technicalities, kid. There's two different contracts. One with your sister and one with you."

"Bu-But you know her name?" Dipper's eyes narrowed, sensing some kind of loop-hole. The whole situation was fairly ridiculous on its own, but he'd still try to understand as much as he could. That was kind of his deal. Bill just swung his cane again, "quick one, aren't ya? I admire that—" Mabel shot Bill a withering glare and the demon stopped mid-sentence, switching directions "—What I meant is that there's some contracts that are a little different. Mabel's contract is, hm, _special_ in some ways. She's ordered me not to tell you though so, whoops, sorry kid looks like a dead-end."

Dipper looked over at his sister, looking at her in a different way. Before, he'd always just seen his sister as his best friend, a constant impersonation of energy, his only companion. Now he wasn't sure what he saw. She was a 16-year-old girl with a healthy complexion but tired eyes when she thought no one was looking. She had long hair that looked pretty but was actually a huge tangle of knots and tangles, obviously not well-kept, and clothes that always had too many pockets and were always very fluffy (a need for something comforting with her at all times?) Dipper frowned. He'd never realized that he and Mabel shared some of his less-desirable traits (the lack of self-care, the insomnia, the anxiety, the lack of comfort, the tiredness). He didn't remember ever seeing it before. When had she figured out how to disguise it, hide it? Dipper didn't have to linger on the question for very long.

"Bill, I demand that you tell me what happened 4 years ago."

Mabel shook her head, "I command that you don't tell him."

Bills eye curved up happily. "Oh, isn't this fun! Well, I'm sorry to inform you Dipper, but your sister's orders are above yours. Gotta listen to Boss Mabe—" Mabel glared at him again, a sharp, teeth-grinding look. Dipper swore he saw Bill tremble for a second. Boss Mabel? Dipper remembered the time she tried (and failed) to run the Mystery shack and had a feeling that it was something completely different. He felt powerless, confused and lost, frustrated. He turned to Mabel, "Mabel, please. I just want to know—I have to know. You know I'm going to go crazy if I don't." He saw Mabel's eye wince a little at the word "crazy" and wondered what that meant. "Please, Mabel, you know I won't stop until I find out what's going on."

Mabel looked at him sadly for a moment and then shook her head, "That's...that's not true. I can make it so that you never remember any of this. I can make everything go back to normal. You want it to go back to normal, right?" Her voice was edged with desperation, some kind of self-justification.

Dipper's eyes widened in shock, "You're... _You're_ the one that erased my memories. You did it!" Mabel looked at her feet a little guiltily, although still resolutely, "Dipper...this is the only way that we can be okay again. Otherwise...bad things happen." Dipper sputtered, "so you decided to force me to forget a whole summer of my life? You can't just rule my life like that! What the Hell!"

Mabel's hands balled up into fists and she frowned, "You want to know why? Fine! It's because you _killed someone_ , Dipper. You murdered a kid from town and buried him in the forest behind the shack. It wasn't even an accident. You...you liked it. You wanted to do it again. I had to stop you, even if that meant erasing your memories." She closed her eyes, exhaustion dragging at her features, "I thought that this whole thing was over. I should have destroyed that book, then none of this would have happened again. I just...you loved that book so much I...I couldn't."

Dipper stared at her, a numb coolness filling up his body. _I killed someone_.

The part of Dipper's brain that wasn't in complete shock just shrugged. He wasn't even surprised, really, because hadn't he known that something like this was going to happen. Hadn't he always kind of known? That insistant dark spot on the back of his mind, telling him stuff that he'd long learned to reign back, keep it chained. That part of him was buzzing now, almost smug like _see, I told you that you couldn't lock me up. Told you that you'd never subdue the monster_. Dipper swallowed and understood then that his fate had had been sealed the moment he found the journal. It was the perfect outlet for his hidden feeling, and Bill was the perfect victim. Because that's what it all boiled down to, didn't it: a victim. Someone had to get stabbed, maimed, understandably killed and buried. For years now that want (that need) had just been bubbling up inside of him like a kettle just about to blow steam.

"So I killed someone." Dipper said slowly, tasting the words on his tongue. Mabel was looking at him with something akin to fear in her wide eyes, and for a second he thought that she was looking at someone else. Another feeling of dread prickled up his neck and he was sure that normal, non-murderer Dipper would have gotten sick right then. New, murderer Dipper only felt faintly queasy, if anything at all. It was strange, a small number of memories seemed to appear in his mind, one after another, as 12-year-old Dipper seemed to make a comeback. Dipper felt like his body was being inhabited by two people instead of just one, both of their personalities merging into some big mess.

_There was a dim light above him and a dark puddle below him. "I want to hurt something," Dipper's voice whispered and there was a dark chuckle. "And what, Pine Tree, would you like to hurt?" There was a clang of knives. "I don't know, I don't care. Just—Just give me something. I'm going crazy." Another chuckle, "kid, sorry to pop your 'lil bubble but I think you've already gone crazy." Dipper grabbed onto the demon's arm and twisted it hard, pushing Bill into what looked like a table with knives on it. "Don't call me kid anymore. You're mine. Call me Master." There was a pause._

_"Yes Master Pines."_

Dipper swallowed, feeling a wave of vertigo rush over him, like he was falling. He stumbled into the wall, hands coming up to cradle his head again. Bill laughed again while Mabel ran over to him, "Bill! The memories are already merging. Erase them already!"

"Is that an order?" Bill asked, eye turning blue, "you want to brainwash your brother again that much? You know from the Blind Eye Society about what happens when someone is brainwashed too many times." Mabel's eyes wavered for a second, uncertainty and guilt pouring into them. "I have to..." Mabel whispered and Bill floated over to her, arm sliding over her shoulder (as he was accustomed to doing) and leaned in close, "do you? Do you really? Think about it _Boss_. He could be like you. You wouldn't have to hide anymore either. Don't you just want both of you to be out with your secrets? Okay with them? That can be a reality."

Dipper trembled against the wall, fighting the onslaught of memories, "what do you mean? Mabel?" He looked between them with confusion etched onto his face. Everything was falling apart in front of his eyes, cracking. "Mabel...Who are you?"

"Y-Your twin, silly." Mabel said weakly, rosy cheeks looking pale, "I'm...your sister."

Dipper scowled, "I'm starting to doubt that. I'm starting to doubt a lot of things, actually. I don't even know anything about you, do I?"

Mabel fidgeted nervously, a tense moment passing between them. Mabel took a breath, resignation on her face, "I'm...You're not the only one...who's a little messed up bro bro." She whispered the sentence like it hurt her to say it. Her eyes looked tired and dark, darker than Dipper ever remembered them being. Bill floated a little above her, swinging his cane happily. "Haha, weren't expecting that, were ya kid!" Bill chirped gleefully, "your sister's a bit of a big name in the demon world. I know, who'd have guessed? Well, I mean, _I_  did but that's only because I know everything. The secrets of the universe, blah blah."

"Bill—" Mabel warned again and the demon stopped talking. "I'm still going to erase his memories. He can't have them."

"What, and you can be 'boss' of the demon world or something? What kind of logic is that?" Dipper yelled. "You can't handle it!" she yelled back and Dipper felt the anger, hot and wild, run through him again, "and suddenly you're the judge of everything? You—I—Leave me the Hell alone! I never want to see you again you mind-leecher!"

Mabel opened her mouth like she was going to shout something back but then shut it again, angry tears slipping down her cheeks. "This isn't you Dipper. What you were 4 years ago isn't who you are or even a part of you. You were manipulated, Dipper. I just need to fi—make you better again."

"No, no you don't!" He shouted but Mabel didn't listen. She walked towards him slowly, a strange cloud-like haze filming over her eyes. Dipper stared as his twin's pupils and sclera went black. _Demon_  he thought with a sudden, gripping terror. His sister was a demon. He backed into the wall again, shoulders hitting the wood with a dull _thump_. "Mabel..." he said quietly, fear surprising him with its intensity. There was an awful realization of helplessness, "Mabel, please don't." She stood in front of him, no mercy showing in her usually emotive eyes. He felt tears slip down his cheeks. "Don't...please. Mabel, please." he begged uselessly, flinching away from his sister. Her eyes didn't change.

"Bill, erase them." She said, and Bill glowing vividly was the last thing Dipper saw before everything abruptly changed to black. The words "don't" still on his lips.


	5. Aren't We All Just Living Lies (Some Of Us More Than Others)

* * *

 

> _“Actors are all about entrances, but writers are all about exits.”_   
>  ― Vincent H. O'Neil, Death Troupe

"Mabel! Don't leave your stuff on my side of the room!"

He threw the offending stuffed animal back to Mabel's side of the room and huffed as he sat back down on the bed, getting situated between the covers. Mabel only laughed on her side of the room, head thrown back as her legs waved back and forth in the air. Typical Mabel. He sighed with a small smile and went back to reading his book. Mabel continued her shenanigans back on her side of the room and eventually he had to put the book down and playfully glare at her. "Mabel, I'm trying to read."

"Pshhh. Book-Shmoosh," she said childishly and then threw her arms up with a big grin. "Let's do something fun. Hair dying! I call orange!"

Dipper rolled his eyes, "no. We are definitely not doing that. Hmm, how about we explore the forest a little? I mean, I think we used to go there. We've already spent all day in here!" Mabel hummed from her side of the room, as if she were musing. "Nah, I think we should just stick here. I heard that there's been a recent outbreak of wolves or something."

Dipper's eyebrows furrowed, "Wolves? Wow, okay, yeah. Gosh, and knowing the local police here, I think they probably aren't going to do anything about it either." Dipper shook his head and slid off his bed, walking over to Mabel's. "Let's just watch the weird TV they have here then." Mabel's face lit up, "Okay! But only if I get to braid your hair!"

Dipper put up a little bit of a fight but ultimately gave in to the braids. They sat in front of uncle Stan's old, square TV and watched a duck detective do his thing. It was fun, and Dipper felt the school-year-worth of stress slowly peel away. He leaned back in the red chair and grinned over at Mabel as she sat down next to him with some cereal.

"You're the best." he smiled as he saw that she'd given him a bowl of lucky charms (with all of the green marshmallows, his favorite). Mabel bit the inside of her cheek and laughed a little, "thanks."

After the show ended, Dipper decided to go back to their room while Mabel said something about "lucky charm necklaces! Wearable charms! Wear _your_  lucky charm! Genius." He walked up the steps and sat back down on his bed, picking up his book again. He was just about to read again when he saw something shiny stuffed under Mabel's bed. The angle from his bed was at the perfect view to see the way light glinted off something golden. He tilted his head and then jumped back off his bed. He got on the floor and reached under Mabel's bed, pulling out the shiny thing. A book? (Why did it look so familiar?) Dipper raised an eyebrow at the 6-fingered hand on the front cover and turned to the front page. He frowned at the mess he saw inside. The first page had been scribbled out with black marker. It wasn't just light marker either, no, it was heavy-duty Sharpie. That was weird. Dipper flipped to the next page. Same thing. He shook his head in confusion and continued to turn through every page of the book. All of them were inked out so that none of the words were readable. He reached the last page and then turned it. He hadn't been expecting anything. He definitely hadn't been expecting the sloppy handwriting on the back cover:

  
_Dipper Pines, 12-years-old (Summer 2012)_   
_Bearer of the 3rd journal_   
  


Dipper sat back and stared at the words. He didn't remember writing this, he didn't even really remember the book. He frowned and tried to think back to that summer. For some reason he couldn't remember anything. What did that mean? Dipper blinked a couple times.

It probably wasn't important. He gave the book one last look and then closed it and pushed it back under Mabel's bed. Then he promptly forgot about it.

Later that evening he told Mabel about the book and she just smiled and said, "I dunno brobro, maybe this place is haunted." She drew out the word "haunted" and made zombie-motions with her arms. Dipper laughed and batted her hands away, agreeing with himself to just forget about the book. He had fun summer memories to create. The break was already starting off in a nice way. Yesterday he'd arrived in Gravity Falls and....

and...

and what?

Dipper felt his frown deepening. He couldn't remember what he'd even done the day before. He looked over at his twin. "Hey Mabel, this is kind of weird but uh, what did we do yesterday?" She gave him a confused glance and then cracked a grin, "we just unpacked and then you clonked out. I don't see _how_ you could even fall back asleep again after napping through most of the car trip but that's puberty I guess." she said the word 'puberty' so loud Dipper thought it would wake up uncle Stan. The explanation calmed him though.

"Huh, that's weird. I don't usually just pass out like that but yeah, I mean, you did pester me a lot in the car. Must have worn me out." Mabel made a mock-indignent sound and elbowed in him in the ribs. Fair enough.

"Geez, you're just stressed out from school. You need to relax some. Get some sleep or something." Mabel said as she threw herself onto her bed. Dipper paused for a second and then shrugged, following suit and climbing onto his bed. He smiled and looked over at Mabel, who looked back.

Then, out of nowhere the word

_Demon_

came to mind. He blinked.

It was gone.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap, folks. Thanks for reading! Sorry if there wasn't enough BillDip in it, but it's part of a series and trust me, the other work is from later and is rated Explicit and there is definitely enough BillDip in that lmao


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